Playing With Fire
by iAmtheRebel16
Summary: Fang and Max are both broken, Max has PTSD and Fang's mom recently died, leaving him depressed. In the Louisiana summer they're both supposed to be cured. But this is a dangerous game, what if Fang crumbles from the memories and can't find happiness, and what if Max can't get rid of hers? T for later chapters nightmares, cussing, kissing, etc.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey guys, first off I'm really far ahead of the game with my other fanfic so I decided to start another one. I've never done a sad broken kind of Fang, so this may be a little horrible. I think I might do a bad boy Percy Jackson… how hot would that be?**

**P.S Review. I was looking at the hits this story got and the visitors compared to the amount of reviews, and I am very disappointed in you guys. (6.24.12)**

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Fang P.O.V

Chapter 1: Memories

I remember being 12 years-old. I remember my mom finally saying I could grow my hair out past my ears. She had run her slender, pale fingers through her curly, dark locks and sighed. She was so beautiful.

I remember being 14 years-old, and having my best friend Iggy tell me, a girl was staring at me from the back of the room. I remember thinking that it was the best thing that had ever happened to me, and no one would ever take the feeling of pride I had away.

I remember being 16 years old, and sitting in the chair at the store Claire's, and the woman, with bright platinum blonde hair, was holding a gun, and it was uncomfortably close to my throat. She pulled the trigger, and I remember pain throbbing through my ear for a moment. I remember walking away with 5 piercings on my right ear, and 3 on the left.

Today, standing at my mother's funeral, her dark curls dulled, flat, her make-up to bright, clothes too common, I know that these memories won't ever bring her back. Nothing. No matter how much I remember her, my mother won't remember me.

I feel a pang of deep hatred towards my father. She didn't deserve this. There was no light in her eyes as she signed the paper that killed her. The divorce. There wasn't a trace of her many many laugh lines. There wasn't any room on her face for comfort or warmness. She was all cold, business. She was so strangled.

"I'm so sorry for your loss Nickolas." My Uncle Ronald says. His green eyes are glistening with tears. Though he is my father's brother, he is much gentler, much nicer, and he loved my mother. I wish he was my father sometimes.

"Don't. I don't want anyone's pity."

"Just fear, huh?" He laughs at his lame reference to the Death Cab for Cutie song _Pity and Fear_.

"I just want to be left alone." I whisper. My voice is hoarse, from not speaking more than 5 or 6 sentences in the past 3 days.

"Well, I hate to tell you, but Ms. Delphine is comin' along. She's bringin' her girl Lissa." He says, and walks quickly away. Ms. Delphine is obsess with Uncle Ron. It's disgusting really.

"Oh Nickolas, dear!" she shrieks. My ears ache and vibrate for a moment before I can answer her.

"Hello Ms. Delphine. How are you?" I say conversationally, though I do no want to have a conversation.

"How am I? Oh sweetie, how are _you_ feeling?" she tsk-ed her tongue and I mentally laughed at her fake concern. I though people in the south were known for hospitality, not fakeness.

"I'm holdin' up." I say, turning on my Louisiana accent. It's slight, just a Southern Twang, but she buys it and smiles sadly at me. It looks like a sneer.

"Oh hun, you come right on over anytime you need to this summer, ya hear? I'm always around for you to talk to, and so is my little Lissa." She cooed.

Lissa wasn't so little anymore. She had gotten all curvy and voluptuous. But she looked fake. Like her lypo-suctioned, BoToxed mother.

She finally walks away and I drop the Twang, muttering in French to myself.

These memories hurt so effing badly.

Max P.O.V

Post traumatic stress disorder. Really? That's what we're doing now?

I mean, what did they expect? After watching that poor woman in my mother's diner walk outside and literally _throw_ herself off the cliff out back, did they think I was just going to recover? Did they think I'd just walk off and happily go and buy myself a $200 prom dress and get my hair done for two hours? Did they think I'd just forget?

Well the memories are there, and sadly, they won't bring her back. I didn't know her. That's what my mom keeps saying. She was just a woman.

She was someone's mother.

She was someone's sister.

Someone's wife.

She was somebody, and now she's gone.

She wasn't just a woman, she was someone's life, someone's spirit, someone's life, someone's everything, and now she's nothing but maggot food and dirt. I can't believe they expect me to just drop this.

So they're sending me off to the small town of Shanterville, Louisiana to stay with my Aunt Valencia for the summer to get a tan and get over the Woman.

I guess.

I mean, if that's what you think is going to help then I won't mind, but I can tell you right now, I won't come back cured. Not even close.


	2. Chapter 2

**SO far I've gotten a lot more reviews on this fanfic, so I think I'm going to focus more on this one than anything else really. I'll continue While the Music Plays, just because I have like 8 more chapters already written for it.**

**And also for inerd123 Max and Fang don't know each other yet, but they will meet, there are no wings, and they have been to school but it's summer break, and they're 18, right before freshman year of college.**

Fang P.O.V

Chapter 2: Heat Wave

It's too hot at Aunt Marge and Uncle Ron's. I don't think they have central heating, which makes zero sense because they live down south.

I haven't stayed in their little guest room since I was 13. There is a twin sized bed pushed up against the left wall, it has blue and black plaid coverings, my choice, straight ahead there is a circular window, letting in too much light, on the right wall, there's a huge bookshelf, filled with overly large novels and knick-knacks. There's a desk shoved in the corner, with a rolling desk chair.

I sit my laptop on the desk, and play my music. _With Teeth_ by Nine Inch Nails starts playing and I'm suddenly laughing because my mom hates- I mean hated- this song and it's comical that I still love it.

I try to watch T.V in their living room, but they have the crappiest cable ever and all there is to watch is day time T.V, you know, the Young and the Restless and stuff, because it's the middle of the day. Marge is off at her office typing away, she's a social worker, and Ron is an accountant, so they have some money, which is enough for Slanterville.

Eventually I give up and decide to just walk somewhere with, I don't know… A/C or something reasonable.

The roads are all dusty in Slanterville, my black shoes are covered in rust colored muck, but I don't mind because I have made it to what seems to be some alternate universe. There are people with vendors' carts selling weird jewelry and stuff, and there are kids on in line skates, they look like kids out of a Hanson music video.

I can feel sweat dripping down my back, and I can feel my eyes becoming dry. I don't know what the heck is in this air, but it's going to kill me before the end of the summer.

There's a little girl. She's standing with boy who looks almost exactly like her only in boy form and taller. They both have the brightest blonde hair, hers is curly and it bounces in the wind, while his has a duck tail in the front and the words _Bite me_ are shaved into the sides. Their eyes are bright and blue, like innocent little… Angels.

"Do you see her Gazzy?" she murmurs to him. He voice is like a tinkling bell, high and happy, like one would imagine the perfect child's.

"No. But we'll hear her." The kid called "Gazzy" snorts. I like him immediately, and I wish he was looking for me.

I walk around for a few minutes, until I see a flash of red hair and I want to duck for cover.

"Nickolas!" she squeals, and I want to shrivel. I want to melt through the floor because I can't speak to her or I will crumble. I can't think of her because she's so bright, she's so happy and there's no room for fire in my world of ice.

"H-hi Lissa." I say. I clear my throat, which is scratchy because I haven't spoken in so long. I don't want her to hear me crack.

The heat is becoming too much and it's making me dizzy, it's making my eyes cross and my stomach clench. Lissa is trying to speak to me but the heat is waving to me or there's a heat wave and I can't breathe, and my lungs are expanding too far and it hurts.

There's another girl. She's like a taller brunette version of the little angle child. She had sun streak, and her eyes are a chocolaty brown. She's so beautiful. She looks like she's freezing in the 90-degree weather. She's so cold.

Max P.O.V

I am looking for the Gasman and Ariel but I can't freaking find them. I understand that they're like 2 feet tall but couldn't they have, like, held a sign with MAXIMUM on it or something or other.

But they didn't, and I'm dizzy because it's so hot, but I can't stop looking or the heat will have beat me, and in the summer don't they say you have to beat the heat, so if I lose, I suck, right?

I'm not even thinking straight, I'm rambling, and then I see a boy. His chest is concaving in on itself and he looks almost green in the face. He's handsome, with an upturned nose and the most kissable mouth I have ever seen in my entire life. I can see his biceps in that shirt he's wearing, but he's talking to a girl with red hair and she's so pretty so I don't stand a chance.

But he's hurting so what should I do?

I don't do anything but see the Gasman and laugh because he has the words **Bite Me** shaved into his little 8 year old head, and that's adorable. He's adorable. The boy is still hyperventilating, and the pretty Red Head Wonder isn't saying or doing anything to help him, she's just rambling about how sorry she is.

I'm so sorry.


	3. Chapter 3

**Okay, if you're reading this, which I highly doubt anyone is, I want three more freaking reviews or there will not be any update. Trust me. If you really like the story, you'll review multiple times to make me happy and you'll get a sneak peek at the next chapter for three chapters… if that makes any sense.**

Max P.O.V

Chapter 3: Car

Aunt Val and Uncle Jeb are so nice. Their kids, Zephyr and Ariel, are the two sweetest beings on the freaking planet, and I wish I really was one of their kids.

Their house is big, like a ranch, with a large brown wrap around porch and two big fat pillars out front. There is a brown balcony facing the front also, it's the master suite, which is really like the size of the average kitchen and dining room combined.

Ariel's room in princess themed, all pink and fluff, no rough edges or sharpness what so ever. Zephyr's such a nerd, his room is Star Wars themed, his ceiling a dark blue with stars and planet painted realistically and accurately to the movie.

The room I'll be staying in is ocean themed, probably because Aunt Val absolutely loves the beach, because she never really got to go as a child. Two walls are light blue, and the other two are this pretty sea green. The bed frame is that cool bleached wood you always see, it looks like it was really bleached by salt, and it's "tied" together with rope. The desk in the corner is made of the same material, and there's a blue cloth over it. The windows have white curtains, and there are cool lights hanging there, like at beach parties, and the room itself is just totally rad.

"I hope you'll like it hear Maxie. I know the only reason your mama sent you here was to 'cure' you but I hope you'll still have fun." Uncle Jeb says. I'm in the kitchen, fixing a PB&J. His blue eyes are swimming. He's my mom's brother, and they look so much alike it's weird. His salt and pepper hair is sticking up, like he just rolled out of bed, but he's been my favorite uncle long enough for me to know that his hair always looks like that.

"Thanks Jeb. I hope I do too. The room Val set up for me is amazing. I feel SoCal." I laugh and he does too. Showing off his dimple on that all American Boy face of his.

"She worked so hard on it, I'll tell her when she gets in from the clinic. But… she was suggesting that you volunteer at the Children's Theater down the street. Just because she knows how much you love acting… I mean you don't have to if you don't want to, but I personally think it would be a good idea, and so does Jenna." He's nervous, so nervous that he called mom Jenna to my face. He usually says "your mama" just because I always call her Jenna to everyone else.

"Don't worry, I wanna do it. Sounds like fun." I say. Because it does, it sounds like the best summer job to have in the world, and last summer, my grades were good enough to work at an aquarium and get _paid_ to swim with _dolphins_. Freaking amazing.

"The program officially starts tomorrow. You can check out the theater today though, if you like. Our neighbors, the Rides, have a son your age, he's going to be playing the piano there, he could drive you."

"Um. Okay?" I say, just to get Jeb out of my way. Don't get me wrong, I love him, but I kinda want to eat in piece. And think about how uncomfortable it's going to be, running off of two hours of sleep, in the car with some kid.

I walk upstairs, trying not to look at the pictures on the wall.

In the shower, I keep my eyes closed, because the water vapor moves in tendrils, and they try to choke me everyday. I wonder what I did to deserve this. At one point, the water becomes bold and tries to invade my lungs, and I want to scream, but I don't want to wake the kids.

I dress quickly, letting my hair air-dry. The black tank top I'm wearing complimented my figure and before the Woman I probably would've said that I looked cute.

I swipe of some eyeliner and mascara, trying to look presentable. The shorts I am wearing aren't too short, but they show off my long tan legs. Boys used to say that my legs were my best feature. My papa says that they're ten miles long and nothing but smooth sailing. I used to laugh and smile with him. And no every time I look at him, I notice that his eyes are the same shape as the Woman and I panic.

By the time I walk out of the room and go downstairs, Ariel and Zephyr are sitting at the table munching on cereal and toast. Ariel's beautiful Shirley Temple curls are bouncing as she laughs at his face.

"Gazzy, stop my sides!" she giggles. His bright blue eyes shine and I can tell he loves her.

"Hi you guys." I say and kiss Ariel on the forehead. She smiles up at me and Zephyr gives me a high five. I grab my bag and hoodie.

It is blistering hot outside. The sun hurts my eyes, but I don't mind, the pain is welcome.

Fang P.O.V

"Just take the girl to the theater would ya Nickolas?" Aunt Marge says. I roll my eyes and sigh.

"I guess." I mutter, shoving more Frosted Flakes into my mouth.

"Oh, and Nudge is at the airport, so hurry so you can pick her up also."

"Isn't this _Max_ girl waiting?" I ask, and Marge scoffs.

"Jeb said to just take her with you." I shrug and drink the sugary milk.

I brush my teeth quickly, shower, and get dressed. I decide I need to make a good impression and change into some black Dickies and a black Polo shirt. When Marge said I had a summer job already set up for me, I didn't realize that I'd be playing the piano for a bunch of snot nosed brats.

I walk outside, my headphones in my ears, My Chemical Romance is singing about teenagers and I bob my head slightly to the beat. I make sure to keep myself from smiling and just press my lips together, making my perfect _I'm so bored_ look.

The Batchelders' looks like an old time ranch, and the children that live there are so lucky. Marge and Ron's house is a 'Victorian restoration' that truly looks like it could've been built in the Victorian era, it's so old. Marge says I just think that because I'm a city boy, but I think anyone would think that.

A girl with brown-blonde hair walks out of the Batchelders' house, she has on shorts that show off her 10 mile long legs, and a tank top that shows of the slight muscle build in her tan arms. She has on black Vans and I admire her style. She's got a messenger bag slung across her chest and there's a black hoodie hanging out of it. I can hear change jingling in the bag and she's already seeming familiar.

The sunglasses on her face obscure her eyes, but I can see her eyebrows raise as she sees me. I give a wave and speed up my pace, because she stops walking all together.

"Are you… Nickolas?" she asks. Her voice is louder than I am used to, but I pause my music anyway and nod, trying not to shrink away from her.

"Max?" I say. She sucks in a breath through her teeth and nods. I jerk my head in the direction of my car, and she follows me. I feel like I am in the scene of a movie, I feel like a song should be playing like… something by the Temper Trap… I don't know why.

Once we get into the car, I plug in my iPod, and My Chemical Romance comes screaming, they are not okay, and I know how they feel, but I turn the volume down anyway so she doesn't feel uncomfortable.

I know how I must look to her, totally badass, and stuff. My pierced ears, my black clothes and combat boots. I might scare her, why didn't I think of that before I got into the car?

We pull up to the theater. I remember this place from when I was a kid.

My mother used to glow here.


	4. Chapter 4

**Okay, next chapter, I'm getting good at this whole updating regularly thing. I think if I just start the next chapter as soon as I'm done with one, I'll already be in the mood to write and it'll be easier. And in the last chapter, Max thought the sun was burning her eyes, but she was really wearing sunglasses. Part of her PTSD. I know PTSD is a little more intense than little things like that, but I'm trying to figure out how to write it into the story. Also:**

**Angel (Ariel): 8**

**The Gasman: 10**

**Nudge/Ella: 17**

**Fang/Max/Iggy: 18**

**Sam/Dylan/Lissa: 19**

**Please, please review!**

Nudge P.O.V

Chapter 4: Killer

I think Fang forgot me. I don't know if he still likes to be called Fang though, because Marge always calls him Nickolas and I don't hear any objections in the background.

But, anyway, here I am, sitting at the freaking airport, in shorts and a tank top that were comfortable enough for flying, but I feel stupid because I bet you can see the sun block melting on my mocha skin, and my curls fell and they're frizzy, and I hate this freaking country heat. The roaches down here freaking _fly_. At least in New York, the cockroaches are normal.

There is a man standing next to a pillar, smoking a cigarette, he has on sunglasses, and he's waiting for a cabbie to put his suitcases into the trunk. He has beautiful hair, reddish-blonde, and pale skin. The way he holds the cigarette in his hand in provocative, his long, slender forefinger and middle finger are pinching.

The more I look at him the more he looks like a bad boy. He has piercings on both ears, and a lips ring. He is wearing dark skinny jeans, and a white t-shirt that advertises Target. I wonder where the hell he got it.

Suddenly, he looks at me.

"_Nudge?_"

Fang P.O.V

"NICKOLAS!" Marge screams into the phone. Max and I have just pulled up to the theater.

"Aunt Marge." I sigh.

"Nude just called-!"

"Oh _shit!_" I sigh, and press down on the gas again. I slam my phone shut, and rush towards the highway. The airport in such a small town is only about 40 minutes away.

The girl, Max's eyes widen and she hangs onto the door of my Mustang like she might die. She may. With me, panicking, thinking of my adoptive sister being raped by some creeper guy in an airport, and driving at about 89.9 miles an hour, she just might get killed.

My phone rings suddenly, and I sigh, annoyed. I need a ciggie. The itch is freaking killing me. I feel like I can see right through my pocket, the box is burning my skin.

"What?" I bark. Who ever it is slightly stunned because it takes a second for them to answer.

"Are you on your way? Iggy's here, he offered to pay for a cab for me if you're not." Nudge says. Her voice is smooth, but I can tell she's annoyed.

"I'm almost there." Not. I've got about 30 minutes left.

"So what, a half hour." She says, a smile in her voice.

"Yep. Iggy's there?"

"Yeah. He said that he was coming to bust you outta Slanterkill. I told him it's Slanterville, but he won't listen."

"He's making a joke, Nudge." I chuckle, and I hear her go _oh_.

She says bye, and hangs up, and I try to speed up when finally.

"You should slow down." Max says.

"No I should speed up, but I won't." I say, keeping my eyes straight forward and allowing myself a small smirk.

"But we really are almost there."

"We've got like 30 minutes left of the drive."

"No turn…" she pauses, "Here" She points to the left, and I do turn.

We arrive at the airport a good 5 minutes later.

"Thanks." I smirk, and look at her properly. Her chocolate eyes have a little blue in them, oddly enough, and I think it's incredible. She's taken off her shades and it staring intently back at me. I don't think I can take her scrutiny, but I pretend that I'm fine. I let this arrogant feeling overcome me. I shove Nickolas away and let Fang appear.

"Killer lips. Deadly legs." I smirk, and hop out of the car. I hear her scoff before I slam my door.

Max P.O.V

His hair is as dark as a raven's wing, his eyes a burning brown, tinged with gold, he's freaking obnoxious.

The whole time he's driving there are trees and they are grabbing at me, their limbs cutting my skin and gouging my eyes. The pain is so intense that I have no voice and I cannot function. He doesn't even ask what's wrong.

Before he'd turned into a maniac we were peacefully listening to My Chemical Romance, and I marveled at how awesome they were. I really only knew the song _Teenagers_ before the car ride. I'm more of an alt rock kind of girl.

We pull up at the airport and there are very few people out, probably because it's the Slanterville County Airport, and the town is too small to make it onto a freaking map…

The most noticeable is a boy, about our age… I think. He is incredibly tall, and thin, but the muscles in his arms are totally there. He has strawberry blonde hair, and there are aviator glasses resting on his hair, so that you can see his startling blue eyes. He has a lip ring. That's the first thing I see, and he's stomping out a cigarette.

"Nickolas! You're late, but earlier than I though you'd be!" a girl squeals. She's got the smoothest mocha skin I've ever seen, and she's practically glowing. Her hair is in a messy bun on top of her head, and she looks so sleepy. She looks like a model.

She stands up, she had been sitting on a big pink Gucci suitcase, and she is nearly my height, and I'm 5' 8". Nickolas hugs her around the waist tightly and they spin in a circle happily. I get out of the car and rest on the door, crossing my ankles and brushing my hair behind my ear. I adjust my sunglasses. I don't remember bringing them, but here they are, and the boy with the lips ring looks over at me. A slight smirk pulling at his lips.

"Who, may I ask, are you?" he says. The boots he is wearing seem heavy.

"You may not ask. Sorry." I deadpan. He raises an eyebrow. I notice Nickolas is looking at us walking over to put Nudge's suitcase in the trunk.

"Um, that's my best friend. Iggy." He points to the boy in front of me.

"Oh?" I say, intrigued.

"Now, Fang, what's this doll's name?" Iggy asks.

"Maximum Ride. Call me Max." I say.

Fang, Iggy, Nudge and I ride home, listening to Nudge chatter the whole time. I wonder why Nickolas didn't tell me he preferred the name Fang. I would've called him that.

I think everyone goes into shock when Fiona Apple starts playing from Fang's iPod.

Iggy bursts out laughing, Nudge stops talking, the smirk on Fang's face falls. I begin to sing.

Once the song is over, I settle back down into my seat.

"See, the ladies love it Ig." Fang says, and I sigh.

He's such a lady killer.

_Right._


	5. Chapter 5

**Thanks guys for all the comments, it makes me feel so happy. And it's the summer, I'll be updating nearly everyday. It's also the end of the dance season, so this whole week I've got 5 hour dress rehearsals well, Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday, the whole weekend is nothing but recitals. Which are only **_**4**_** hours! **

**Okay, also, I know this note's getting long, but will someone please give me some ideas for how to make Iggy be a main character because right now, I've got him staying in a hotel and coming out to the theater to hang with Fang (ha a rhyme) and harass Maximum. So… PM me will you?**

**Also… I don't own any song in this thing. I sure as hell wish I did though.**

**R&R!**

Fang P.O.V

Chapter 5: Beautiful

After I drop Iggy off at his hotel in the "city" I take Nudge with Max and me to the theater. I almost feel bad for leaving Iggy alone, his girlfriend, Ella, just left him. So he's become really… crude, let's just say.

Nudge is talking at 100 mile per hour, and I can see the gears in her head shifting from to topic to topic. I can see Max becoming antsy as we pull up to the theater, for the second time. I feel like an idiot for forgetting my own sister at an airport in the middle of nowhere, but I keep the muscles in my face as relaxed as possible, the perfect bored teenager.

The building is tall, at least 4 stories, and wide, taking up the majority of an acre of land. It looks like on of the high schools back home in Phoenix. I stare up at it, the deep brown wood looks sturdy, I guess, I'm not a carpenter and I failed my one semester of woodshop.

We walk through the doors, and immediately, Nudge shuts up. The floor looks like it's made of ivory and the walls, which is made of real slabs of granite and rock has writing all over it. Things have changed so much since I'd last been here. There are paintings, watercolors, the paper is thin, like papyrus and they are hanging from the ceiling, and twirling in the wind.

There is soft music playing, jazz, and Max hums along, her face away from mine, but I can still see the tears welling in her eyes.

The one wall on the left, is completely window, and in it there are statues made by teenagers from New Orleans trying to get a feel for the "country life" and I admire them, because I wish I was that creative.

We walk towards the auditorium quickly and quietly. I can't hear anyone in the room but I open the door anyway just to see.

There is a man, with chocolate hair, slightly graying at his temples and he is sorting through all kinds of musical scores. He keeps pinching the bridge of his nose irritably and I can tell he wants to punch something because he groans and sits down, nearly toppling out of his seat in the process.

"Excuse me, sir?" Nudge calls down the aisle. Max face palms and I just smirk at her as she shakes her head back and forth.

The man jumps out of his seat, this time with little accident, and reaches his hand out to Nudge, who has run up to him with a little too much enthusiasm.

"Hi, I'm Monique." She says politely, the man raises his eyebrows a little as he looks her up and down. My blood boils and my temperature rises a little.

"Don Martin. I run this place." He says smugly. I hate him.

"Hello, I'm Maximum Ride." Max says. She takes off her shades, which is good because it's dark in the room and it would be weird if she didn't. Don Martin shakes her hand also, clasping her small one in his large ones. She doesn't flinch or even blush but she does clench her jaw and swallow hard as he kisses her hand.

"I'm Fang." I say. He looks at me with disdain, and I know it.

He's a perv.

I can tell by the way he hungrily eyes Max's legs and I'm suddenly scared for her. It's not her fault that they're 10 miles long, tan, and smooth and toned and muscled and any straight guy would fanaticize about those legs after a jog or swim, any guy would love to see the way the water falls off of those legs.

Good God, this man is contagious.

Max P.O.V

Fang looks thoroughly uncomfortable. He winces with every step Don takes towards me and he's eyeing my legs with fear and sadness, and that's weird because guys have always said my legs are one of my best features. Not that I care.

Don Martin takes us on "Master Tour" of his theater and he keeps an arm around Fang's shoulder. He talks about the original layout of this place before he bought it and how lain and boring it was. Fang looks like his skin has been set on fire and Don is gouging his eyes out with a fork.

We make our way back to the auditorium, and sit right in front of the stage. The lights shine down on the wooden floor and glint like something special.

"Now… what are your talents?" Don asks. He looks at Nudge first and I know immediately she's going to say acting.

"I act, and play a little piano." She says. That's probably the shortest sentence I've ever heard her say, and it's grammatically correct, with a subject and predicate.

"Maximum?"

"Call me Max. And I act, I write, and I dabble in the singing." He looks at Fang, who's been muttering to himself since we passed the movie gallery 10 minutes ago.

"_Fang_, you say?" Don asks distastefully. Well, that wasn't polite.

"Yeah, Fang I did say. I play piano." He says.

"Can you sing?" I find myself asking. I didn't know he played the piano. But he did have those long delicate fingers, and he did like soft music.

"I dabble." he quipped, with a smirk. He runs his fingers through his black hair, flipping his overly long bangs out of his face and playing with his earrings.

"Well let me hear you. Fang, get you ass over to that grand piano, and play whatever Maximum tells you to." Don snaps his fingers and I quickly climb onto the stage, while Fang sluggishly gets his butt up to the piano bench.

"Do you know… _Samson_ by Regina Spektor?" I ask him quietly. He rolls his eyes like I'm insane but starts playing anyway.

"Well? You gonna sing?" he snaps, as I stare at him. His eyes are big, wide, like he's trying to look innocent, but I can see them glossing over. He's about to cry.

"Um… yeah."

_You are my sweetest downfall_

_I loved you first_

_I loved you first_

_Beneath the sheets of paper lies my truth_

_I have to go, I have to go_

_Your hair was long when we first met_

_Samson went back to bed_

_Not much hair left on his head_

_He ate a slice of wonder bread and went right back to bed_

_And history books forgot about us and the bible didn't mention us_

_And the bible didn't mention us, not even once_

_You are my sweetest downfall_

_I loved you first,_

_I loved you first_

_Samson came to my bed_

_Told me that my hair was red_

_Told me I was beautiful and came into my bed_

_Oh I cut his hair myself one night_

_A pair of dull scissors in the yellow light_

_And he told me that I'd done alright_

_And kissed me 'til the mornin' light, the mornin' light_

_And he kissed me 'til the mornin' light_

_You are my sweetest downfall_

_I loved you first_

I sing the last note, letting it resonate through the room. Fang is hunched over the piano, his eyes downcast, staring at the keys as he played. He is moving his fingers quickly, making the song more intense, like he could see this girl himself. I am finished, but he isn't. I can see the words swarming my head and grabbing at my hair, the feeling making my heart stop and start at an abnormal rate. I cannot breathe, his notes are so deep they are drowning me, and I can't think because the Woman's blood clogs my veins and she's dead, and Fang's alive and he's too damn far.

He is done now. I am standing, center stage, my eyes wide as I stare at him. Breathing heavy, panting. Nudge is clapping, but I can see. I may not be able to think or breathe, but I can see. I see Fang.

And he is beautiful.

I jump off the stage, and walk over to the bench. He is crying, those onyx and gold eyes swimming in salt water. His face is totally overcome with grief, like the piano is weighing down on his chest.

"Fang. That was beautiful. That was amazing. You're amazing." I whisper, because I need him to know, before I say: "And I'm sorry. For making you do that song." Because I know that is what made him cry.

"It not you're fault. It's my mom's. She loved this song, she always sung it about my father. He was her sweetest downfall. And she… loved him first."

"I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to…" I say, but he looks up at me, his eyes wide, and red, but the tears are gone. Don is talking to Nudge, who is smiling smugly.

"Nudge! Come play _Transatlanticism._" He says loudly enough for her to hear. His voice doesn't waver.

I won't forget how beautiful he is.

Fang P.O.V

_The Atlantic was born today, and I'll tell you how_

_The clouds above opened up and let it out._

_I was standing on the surface of a perforated sphere_

_When the water filled every hole._

_And thousands upon thousands made an ocean, _

_Making islands where no island should go._

_Oh no. _

_Most people were overjoyed;_

_They took to their boats. _

_I thought it less like a lake and more like a moat._

_The rhythm of my footsteps crossing flood lands to your door _

_Have been silenced forever more._

_The distance is quite simply much too far for me to row_

_It seems farther than ever before_

_Oh no._

_I need you so much closer._

I look directly at Max as I sing this last line. I take in all the tan skin of her face. The planes of her high cheekbones, her slender, upturned nose, her arched eyebrows. Her cupid's bow and how red he full lips are. The curve of her jaw, and the way it fits perfectly with the slop of her neck. Her slender waist and the perfect way her hips look in that tank top. Those legs, ten miles long, make me want to get in my car and drive, drive to the country with her, her long hair blowing in the wind, listening to love songs by Regina Spektor.

She smiles at me, her chocolate eyes shining.

She is so beautiful.


	6. Chapter 6

**Okay, the last chapter was extremely long, and I doubt I'll make another one that long… though I might. It was like 6 pages. I've written longer for the novel I'm writing, so I guess.**

**Thanks for the comments, I hope this fanfic gets like 50 one day… just putting that out there.**

**Sorry if it's short also, it's basically just filler.**

Nudge P.O.V

Chapter 6: Problem

I'm starting to think there's something going on between Max and Fang. After she sung her song, _Samson_, the one mom always used to sing, she went over to Fang at that piano bench, and she talks to him in hushed tone. He never looks up at her, he just looks at those keys until he calls me over to play for him.

I thought he was telling her how great her performance was, because she was _amazing._ I mean seriously, are you freaking kidding, I've never ever even seen someone so talented, not even someone famous. Max was something totally different and it was something to be recognized. Oh great now I'm babbling. Back to the story Nudge! Gah!

Okay, so he calls me over to play the piano for him, after talking with Max, but his voice is harsh and mean, so I think he is angry. I know he is angry.

For some reason the keys were wet.

After we leave the theater, Don says he wants us to teach his kids how to perform like _that_. Full of raw emotion and feeling, letting everything come out and leaving it on the stage. Fang says no problem and Max doesn't say anything, but we leave.

There's a problem that needs fixing.

Fang P.O.V

I don't know what the hell happened to me. One second I was a sobbing freaking mess in public because Max likes the song _Samson_, which isn't that hard to believe if she likes Fiona Apple. And it's freaking me out that I'm crying, let alone in public, so next I'm angry. How dare she just waltz on in here and take pity on me, like she knows me.

Then I'm on stage practically proclaiming an undying love for her that I didn't know existed…

The car ride home is awkward. Nudge doesn't even speak; she just tells me she wants me to drop her off in the town square.

When we pull up in front of Max's Aunt and Uncle's house, she smiles, a small, sad smile, and looks up at me.

"You wanna come in?" if Iggy were here he'd say: "Come in what?" and he'd think it was funny.

"Sure." I say, because I'm not Iggy and I want to know Max. I want to know why she's so quiet, but so strong. I want to know why in the world she already cares about me and we just met. I want to know where she learned to sing like she can because she freaking blew me out of the water. If that was her dabbling, I'd hate to see her really try. It'd be scary.

She's staying in a guest room, it is ocean themed, and her blonde streaked hair looks so amazing with the room color. She could be a model. She looks so perfect right here, in this room. She must be comfortable here because there are already pictures hanging on the wall. There are clip outs of New York City, and L.A, and even Chicago, and they all look totally different, it's kind of insane. She has a picture of herself all the way out in freaking _Florence, Italy_ with a woman, who's about the same height as her, thin and toned, like her, with the same streaked hair, and nose, and cheeks bones. Her eyes are blue instead though, and there's a man in the picture with her mouth and tan skin, and chocolate eyes, next there is a little boy. He's about 8 or 9 and he looks so much like Max it's crazy. Same facial shape, same nose, smile, eyes, and head tilt as the laugh. She's holding him. They're all smiling, laughing. I wish I could experience that. The more I look at it, the more I can tell she was only about 14 or 15, and she was about 4 inches shortest than she is now.

"Your family looks so happy." I say. She whirls around, looks at me. She had been fiddling with her computer, putting on a Lykke Li playlist, starting with the song _Tonight_.

"Oh, yeah. Best freaking family trip… ever! My little brother Ari took about 200 pictures while were there, and I put them all on Facebook." She laughs.

"Nice. How old is Ari?"

"Well we're 3 ½ years apart, so he's about to turn 15."

"Ah. I remember the days. Second year of high school." I sigh. She giggles and sits down her bed, looking up at me, still standing, staring at the pictures of her smiling family in front of the "Ride of Your Life Family Diner and Skating Rink"

"Oh I bet you were an awkward ass kid, huh?" she laughs, "Pepperoni pizza faced, wanna be skate border, secret Star Wars loving geek."

"Ha ha… funny. I was actually very clear skinned sophomore year. Freshman year, ok… pepperoni faced, but we moved that year, so no one knew that at my new school." She raises an eyebrow.

"So you were a ladies' man?"

"No, not really. I was pretty good at the whole "Don't fuck with me, I'm emo" look so I basically hung out with Iggy the whole year, and year after that, and year after that."

"Are you a virgin?" she asks suddenly. I feel my eyes widen but I regain my control and place a smirk on my face.

"Why so curios babe?" I quip, "Is there something you wanna tell the old Fangster?" she rolls her eyes in exasperation.

"You're so pretentious."

"Are you calling me a douchebag? Cause if you really want me, just say it. No hard to get needed."

"No, I'm calling you a prick, there's a difference." She giggles, and falls back on the bedspread. She really looks like an angel like that.

"Why did you come here? You're from New Orleans, right?" I say.

"Oh… um, I had some trouble back home." She says, and by the way her voice cracks I can see this subject is a problem and I need to drop it. But I want to know, I have to know. I will know, trust me.

Max P.O.V

He's got this whole douchebag bad boy thing going on that probably made all the girls fall back in high school. Better yet, just made their panties fall.

He's flirting, running his hands through his hair. Not like a girl, more like his friend Iggy, making stupid sex references that make you want to punch him but then again you don't want to punch him because he's so damn cute. He's cool though. Funny. Sorta.

Yeah. That's what he's got me doing now. And it's a problem.

I think I like him.

I mean, not like boyfriend type of like, but I like him enough to want to be friends with him. Because they way those dark eyes train on me when I speak, make me feel like he's listening. The way her quirks his eyebrows when he's confused make me feel like he cares. The way his lips twitch in a little smirk make me feel like… that little smirk makes me want to talk more. It makes me want to make him smile. Like, a full on grin. Get away from this façade that he's putting up and show me the real Nickolas.

Yeah, it's like that now.


	7. Chapter 7

**Okay, so I got a new flashdrive, and everything but we're moving so this may be a little short because I'm at the mall because our house no longer has wi-fi, and it sucks. A lot. I'm hoping that my return will bring a lot more reviews… -hint hint- and stuff. So please enjoy.**

Max P.O.V

Chapter 7: Breathing.

Ever since the day in my room with Fang, things between us have been nice. Sweet. Almost like he thinks of me as a friend. I hope he does because I want him to be my friend, like, that's all I think about at night. I hope he can look past my crazy and love me.

I mean, like.

I mean, want to be around me?

Does that make any sense? Does it make sense for me to want him to want to know me, to want to be around me, but for me to already breathe him? Is it weird that I know how he smells right after he gets out of the shower? Is it weird for me to know that he has a smoking habit, is it weird for me to love the way his breath smells after a cigarette? I don't even like the way smoke smells. I was actually pretty sure that I hated it but whatever.

He keeps my attention away from mirrors. Every time I look into one it shatter and stabs me in the face 1000 times. Or I see the Woman's face in it. Her dark hair tangled and matted by blood. Or I see y mother's baby blues and they crack and turn into stone and she drops dead.

He keeps me singing. He's stepped away from his stupid rock music, and started listening to that Fiona Apple, and stopped claiming that it's only on there for the girls.

"Do you like Mr. Nickolas?" a little girl asks me. I am at work, at the theater, and out of the 3 weeks it will take, we are 2 weeks of the way done with our production of the Pied Piper. Her name is Lisa, and she plays a dance teacher.

"Of course, we're really good friends."

"But he said you just met, right before we all got here." she says innocently, and looks up at me.

"Of course. But that doesn't mean we cant be good friends, does it?" she shrugs and walks away to talk to her other little friends. I don't actually have anything to do, because Nudge is taking over, doing some last minute acting coaching.

I walk over to Fang, sitting behind his piano, texting away on his phone. It's cute, because he claims he's not normal, but he sure as hell looks like he is.

"Hiya Fangy." I say sweetly, and his head whips up. His eyes are wide and feral for a second, but I've gotten used to it.

"Don't call me that _Maxie_." He sneers and I laugh at his lame attempt to make me angry.

"Whatever Fang. Who ya textin'?" I say. He told me a while ago that he loved the way I talk, because I sound like a 'Southern Belle'. I mean, compared to Nudge, who was living in New York going to a design school, and himself, who lived in Phoenix, Arizona, of course I sound country, even though I'm from the city myself.

"Iggy. He got a job here. Which is good, I'm tired of texting, it hurts."

"Oh you're a wimp." We laugh, and I swat his arm.

Just then, a girl walks into the theater. Don Martin isn't here today, he had some 'C.E.O Business' to handle (meaning he and his secretary went to rent out a hotel room for a few hours), so I wouldn't know why she's here.

"Can I help you?" I shout from the piano. The auditorium is very big, so my voice echoes.

She flips her fiery locks over her shoulder and picks up her pace, making it over to me faster than I would've thought possible in the heels she's wearing.

"Yeah, is Nicko- Nicky!" she shrieks, and walks over to him. I don't know how she didn't see him, considering he was sitting basically right next to me.

So.

She goes over to Nickolas, tottering in her 7 inch heels, and I admire her balance, because Lord knows I would've face planted already. She's wearing a skirt, but it's not too short, and it matches nicely with her pink lacy top. She has the word 'Love' scrawled on it, and she looks like a model.

"Oh. Lissa!" Fang says with false cheer, she doesn't notice though at I want to laugh because she didn't see it. I saw it. I know him. He's as easy as breathing.

Fang P.O.V

Oh.

No.

I hadn't been expecting this. No. No. No. This is bad. Lissa is bad.

After hanging out with Max for two weeks, seeing Lissa was a surprise. Her loudness, not only her voice, but the colors she wears was blinding, annoying. I will admit she's pretty but there is nothing else there. She's shallow, I don't want her.

"Oh. Lissa." I say. I try to keep my dejectedness out of my voice but it's hard. I think. I also try to keep up my badboy façade, but it's hard. I just smirk at her throughout the whole conversation and call her 'babe' when she needs an answer. She giggles the whole time and it's annoying, it's not like with Max, who just laughs or snorts.

Lissa invites me over to her house, and I have to go, even though she says I don't, because if I don't go, her mom will tell Marge who will, and I quote 'Skin my hide' I don't even know what the heck that _means_.

"Who was that?" Max asks after she leaves. I roll my eyes, trying to get ride of 'Fang' and bring out 'Nick', but it's always a really hard transition, because I'm only 'Nick' for Max.

"This girl, Lissa. I met her when I first got here." I say. She doesn't know that my mother died, she just knows I cam for a funeral, and didn't leave. I'll never really leave. I'll always leave this one big huge broken piece of me in that casket with my mom. Because she didn't deserve this. She never will.

"Oh are you guys dating? She's _so_ pretty Fang!" she says loudly, and she laughs, sitting next to me on the bench. It's weird having her act like this, and I know she's not faking because I know her.

When we leave, _2 hours later_, Nudge and Max get into my Mustang and we drive off to the town square, and walk around the little stalls. Max sees her little cousins and they come over to us.

"Have you guys properly met?" she asks us, and Nudge and I say no.

"I'm the Gasman." The little blonde boy says. He's the one I saw in here in the square, 'Gazzy'.

"I'm Ariel." The little girl says. They're like little angels, and it's incredible to be staring at them.

Until…

_**BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!**_

"Gazzy!" Max shrieks, staring down at him. Across the square, in an empty field, there is sitting a flaming junk car, and wlaking down the hill, towards us is-

"Iggy! That was so boss wasn't it?" The Gasman questions, looking up at Iggy.

"Iggy? What the hell man, you taught my little cousin how to blow up freaking car? What the fuck you dipshit? I should kick your ass?" Max rants. And she rarely curses, so I know she's angry. We all know she's angry.

"What's a dipshit?" Ariel whispers to the Gasman. He shrugs and looks at Max, fuming, and walking up quickly to Iggy.

"Iggy, don't listen to Max she's just jealous!" The Gasman shouts, and Nudge rolls her eyes.

"Kick his butt Max, he deserves it!"

"No Max, that's bad!" Ariel shouts.

"Let's go Iggy!"

"No Max!"

"Kkjfkj kanjkfa abbf Max! JJHVHla Iggyjkfjjbf! The;nfjafjaljfkbdkf fuck?jkaffajfklbjfbalb The Gasmanjjabfjabfjabfafhabfkajf!"

"Everyone shut the hell up!" I scream. Nudge and the Gasman have started to argue, and Ariel was trying to get everyone to calm down along with cheering Max on to 'pound the hell out of Iggy', and I was _really_ trying to not make a scene and-

"Don't say that word Ariel!" Max shrieks.

Max's face is red, and she's still mad, and that car is still flaming (someone should seriously call 911) and Ariel looks confused, as does Gazzy and Nudge is still whispering into the kid's ear at a mile a minute.

"We're all going home. Now!" I shout, and herd the kids into my car. Ariel has to sit in between Gazzy and Nudge because they are just horrible with each other.

What's with everyone's weird nicknames?

The _Gasman_? Iggy? Fang? Nudge?

Anyway… Max sits next to me in the passenger seat, and I tell Iggy I'll see him later. We fist bump and I ride off. Max is still angry and I can tell because I know her, though she keeps telling Ariel that she's fine and to never use any of the new words she heard. At least, not around her parents or teachers.

"Everyone, stay calm, breathe." Nudge says, even though she and Max re the only ones still worked up.

I drop Max and the kids at their place, hug Max on the front steps. I yell at Nudge for standing on my seats to get to the front, and we drive the 30 feet to our Aunt's house.

Just breathing here is so weird.


	8. Chapter 8

Hey guys, this isn't really an update, and I'm using a piece of shit computer with no Microsoft Word, but I dont know how to continue this story! I have no ideas, because I suck at planning things. I also think I'm going to remove Before I Self Destruct (AGAIN!) because I only have a few prewritten chapters, where very little happens and I have no idea how in the world I'm going to build the plot without throwing in tons of romance too fast. So, any ideas, please give them to me, and should I remove my other fanfiction.

Also, if you need something to keep you busy, I recently read this really kick ass Percy Jackson fanfiction called Going Under by .I' it's really good.

So PM me, put your answers in reviews, I might even start a poll, hell. And I just moved, so... I've got crap to do, and school is starting for me, literally, on Friday. Isn't that stupid? Shouldn't you start school, I don't know, at the begining of the week? But whatever.

Sorry guys!


	9. Chapter 9

So, basically, I suck eggs, and you guys are all welcome to tell me this through many many many hateful PM's and reviews. I don't care. I'll take it all because I totally deserve it for getting you guys' hopes up like "OMFG she finally freaking updated this story" and then it's like, a stupid freaking Author's Note. I will actually update this thing tomorrow. Like, a legit chapter. I was supposed to get around to doing that last week, but I didn't. Anyway, so yeah, the computer's fixed and all. I'll have a whole 5 page chapter up for you guys, I swear and promise and cross my heart and all that good crap. Really. I mean, seriously.

Also, Before I Self Destruct is going to have an update soon too. I know I like published that and didn't do anything with it but I promise to get around to it sometime soon, hopefully right after I update Playing With Fire, or at least this month. Tomorrow's a half day so I ain't got squat to do. I might even post that punishment I spoke about vaguely in Stop Sneaking Up on Me… you never know ;) Maybe even a little bit of ApolloxPercy action since I have officially become a fangirl of them after reading I Give It All by Panceak Pirate. It is awesome! Yeah, also, follow me on Instagram, why don't you? I just made it, lexxthesharpie. And Kik me at… can you guess… LexxTheSharpie. Yeah, I'm that creative.

Sorry, again guys. I've already got the chapter started though, just a little bit of tweaking to be done.


	10. Chapter 10

**Hey guys! Update as promised. Might even do another chapter tonight! Again, I am overusing the exclamation points :3 anyway, give me constructive criticism, but don't be rude or anything. Seriously.**

Chapter 8: Fireworks

Max POV.

It's the Fourth of July. My mom used to tell me about how she had her first real toe popping kiss on the Fourth as fireworks exploded overhead and erupted between her and the boy. She speaks about this moment in time so fondly, I used to become jealous. I used to think that something like that would never, ever happen to me and I would be an unlovable thing forever.

I think Nick loves me.

I think he likes being around me but he loves my scent. I think he likes how funny I am but he really loves my laugh. I think so many things about Nick that I can't count them all one hand. It's incredible really, how, as we drove the Children's Theater bus into the next town at 6pm to play in the Gulf of Mexico with a bunch of little kids, I marveled at what a beautiful smile he has. Or how those piercings in his ears don't fit him at all.

"Max, what's with you?" he asks. We are sitting on a blanket and eating sandwiches Iggy made for us. They taste good and the bread sticks to the top of my mouth, but I'm fine, just watching Iggy and Nudge play with the kids and enjoying the summer's night air with my best friend.

"I want this forever." I say abruptly. I want to have mosquitos attacking my skin, and I want to smile every time I see the Gasman, our little stowaway with his sister, flirting with a little brown haired girl from the theater. I want to just be able to feel okay in my skin, and Nick makes me feel that way.

"I know how-," he begins. But something explodes above us. The sky lights up with brilliant beautiful lights and I stare at them until my eyes are burning, until tears are running down my cheeks and everything is a little blurry. I feel something warm touch my shoulder, softly rubbing circles on the skin there. I am glad my dress is strapless. The polka dots stand out and Nick's pale skin is a nice contrast to mine. I didn't hear what he had to say, but I'm feeling exactly what he is in that moment. His dark eyes are like a pool of jewels that I would love to wear around my neck. He's more beautiful in this second than he was on that day when I saw him cry. More beautiful than the day the Gasman and Iggy blew up that car, or when he laughed at me, or when he sighed in relief as that pretty girl Lissa ran off and away from him.

"I want this forever too." He mouths or screams at me. I don't know, I can't hear him, but I don't mind. I just like having him here with me.

"C'mon." I say, standing and pulling him up with me. My skin is tingling and I want to swim. I want to strip off all these barriers and hold him close to me. Not in a sexual or physical way, but just so I can feel his heart beat without interruptions.

We run excitedly to the water. It's warm and splashes at my feet. I wonder how something so huge hasn't swallowed little old me up, and I'm glad that I have Nick around to protect me. His hand is large and warm in my tiny cold one and he gives mine a gentle squeeze as we stare up at the moon.

Fang POV

She's glowing.

As we're driving to the next town, it's near the Gulf of Mexico, close to New Orleans, she seems to have a smile embedded in her skin. The kids are screaming, Gazzy and Angel were found as stowaways, and Iggy was making me want to punch him, he was flirting with Nudge. I think she was safer at her school in New York. Add that and traffic, there was an angry me.

But she wasn't paying any attention to that. She seemed to be staring directly at me, but she wasn't seeing me. She isn't seeing me now. She's seeing something entirely her own, something she's built me up to be, and I can only hope that I don't let her down. That would kill me.

At the beach, it's getting dark and the kids are running around like headless chickens. Iggy and Nudge area taking care of them and everyone is happy. Max and I sit, eating delicious sandwiches Iggy made for us, and I take a sip of bottled water. I want nothing more than to kiss her as the firework show starts. I want nothing more than to plant my lips on her soft, supple ones, and nibble her bottom lip, to make her stop pouting forever. I want nothing more than to steal all her breath until she has nothing but a moan left to give me. That's all I want, and I don't think anyone can blame me.

"I want to stay like this forever." She sighs dreamily. Her chocolate and ice eyes are gleaming and she looks like she truly believes in miracles. She believes I can get better, even though she hasn't seen the sickness yet. No one has, but I want her too. And her sudden belief in miracles makes me want to tell her everything. I feel like I just need to spew every evil thought that has crept into my mind. Instead, I say:

"I know how you feel." I say, but I am interrupted. I'm sure she doesn't hear anything I say because above us, in a loud display of colors, loud in every sense of the word, fireworks shatter above us. It smells like gun powder, but no one minds, not even the kids because these colors are little miracles themselves. We watch and see how long some of them can hold up in the sky. Fireworks, miracles in the purest form.

Max POV

Nick and I do not kiss. That was how our magical moment ended, but I don't care. I don't mind not one bit.

So the next day, no one has to be at the theater. Nick, Iggy, Nudge and I decide to go shopping. Aunt Val has just given me $150 plus the money my mother sent me here with, I've got $275 in all. Nudge, being a spoiled rotten little princess has a credit card her daddy gifted to her, and of course, Iggy and Nick actually have worked for their money.

"So… what mall?" I ask. In New Orleans my friends and I would always go on the strip because I loved being outdoors. It was fun and we all enjoyed ourselves.

"Baton Rouge?" Nudge says excitedly.

"No you idiot. That like 2 ½ hours away. Morgan City." Nick scoffs, and rolls his eyes at her. She seems a little dejected, but we all move on. Iggy wraps an arm around her slowly, shutting Nick and I out. I think that there's something between them. And not just the obvious romance. Something a little more than a summer fling…

"C'mon Nudge, help me pick some clothes." I say happily. At the Rides' home Nick has been taken in as somewhat of a son, his aunt and uncle even tell people that he's their son, and now we spend tons of time there. I like the stifling heat, there is no central air, I like having my lungs all choked up now. It gives me something to hold on to.

Nudge and I run off into her guest room. It's immaculate, unisex, definitely not enough pink for Nudge, but she doesn't seem to care very much.

"I was thinking you could wear a dress." She winks at me over her shoulder. We're relatively the same size, and she likes having someone to trade clothes with so I always go along with it.

I nod and smile.

I pay no attention to Nudge. I can hear Nick and Iggy talking next door. His smooth voice is like melted chocolate. Delicious, dark, and hot. I can imagine him running his fingers through his hair, andaa playing with many earrings. I can imagine him nervously scratching at his forearms, and I wish I could take away the itch. Nudge says that he's depressed, but I can't tell. His laugh is like water to me, I drink it up, and nothing about it sounds even mildly sad. But then again, you can get aaway with anything with a simple smile.

Though, Nick doesn't hide anything from me. We've only known each other for a short time, but we click, we fit together like jigsaw puzzles. His eyes tell me tales, and all of them must be true because they're so raw and full of this power that's nothing but Nick.

"He likes you." Nudge blurts. I snap my head up sharply, looking at her. She's got a plain blue dress and a long black maxi in her hands.

"Who?" I say, confused.

"Fang! Of course. Who else?"

"What makes you think that?"

"It's just the way he looks at you." She shrugs like it's nothing, but my stomach is now curling in on itself.

Nick to me, is like… the nicest thing ever. Literally like the song describes. I wish he knew that I loved him, I wish he knew that I like coffee over tea, but drink coffee because it has more caffeine. I wish he remembered how scared I must've looked when we first met, and I wish that in a sea of girl, beautiful ones, I was the only one he would look at.

"I think you're wrong." I mutter.

We go to the mall, and Nudge doesn't mention the conversation we had. I end up in the long black dress and wearing my Toms. Nudge says I look too cute, when in reality I probably look like a bag of potatoes. The dress does nothing for my curves and my legs look abnormally long. Nudge acts like some kind of fangirl over every cute thing. I end up just wandering around Charlotte Russe and Forever 21. I occasionally drifted into Rue 21 or Hot Topic but other than that, I spent most of my time much on the mini pretzels I was sharing with Nick.

I think something about fireworks has changed us. I think as we stared up at them we realized even fire, something so dangerous and devastating, could be beautiful.


	11. Chapter 11

**Double update I guess. :) but no Fang POV**

Chapter 9: Shaking

_I was running. Being chased actually. I was in tiny shorts and a tank top, barefoot, cold bitng at my skin, roots tearing into my toes, thorns breaking my legs. My lungs were stinging, burning and I heaved every breath, trying desperately to keep running. I could hear baring anda howling behind me, masking aa horrible guttural growl. The trees were bleeding together and I couldn't see anything clearly for the life of me. Tears were blurring my vision and everything was aching. My thighs were tight and my hair was blowing into my face. I felt as though I was running in circles, like I could never escape even if I wanted to. The trapped, claustrophobic feeling crept up my back and tickled my mind a little, until it was a full blown jab to my sanity. Nothing felt right and concentrating was near impossible. My eyes darted form the left to the right in a nervous attempt to find a way out. The fear was crushing._

_I stumbled._

_A gasp ripped my lungs in half, and I felt a gash open on my already bleeding ankle. I was pitched forward, screaming, my throat aching and shattering. I felt a blinding, hot, searing, mind numbing shriek of terror, blood, and agony blow my world apart as razors ripped into my back. The disgusting growling sounded like laughter now._

_"You cannot run from pain." _ _The ground rumbled with the intensity of the growling._

_My nerves were on fire, and I could feel my skin melting off of my body. I could feel my skin hitting the dirt and getting mixed up with the water that was feeding this stupid root and keeping this tree alive. I pulled in a shred of air, but it felt like fire in my throat and it left ash in my lungs. I was screaming, aa bloodcurdling, keel over and throw up kind of scream._

_"I am pain." It was a woman's voice this time._

I jolt awake. My legs tangled in a mass of blankets and sheets. My throat is raw, and as I rub my eyes with the heel of my hand, I notice deep crescent shaped splotches of blood.

I draw in a shaky breath filling my lungs with stale air. I blink a few times too, trying to clear my head, but every time I close my eyes I see the fractured, disgusting body of the Woman lying in a pool of flesh, blood and maggots, and I want to regurgitate everything I've ever eaten in a lifetime. Her face is open with gouges, cutting her face into 8 parts. Each piece has a different expression.

I swallow hard now, and reach onto the nightstand for my cell phone. It's a Sunday, Nudge will be in church with the Rides and Aunt Val and Uncle Jeb stole the kids away for ministry too. But I know Nick and Iggy are definitely not listening to Pastor Bryant, I know for a fact that they're probably standing on the front steps smoking cigarettes. I send Nick a text. (Max is bold Fang is italics)

**Pick me up?**

_Now?_

**Whenever you can.**

_Now. I'll be there in 15._

I laugh some at his quick replies and eagerness to leave church grounds, but my throat kills and my lungs protest so I stop, in order to save tears.

Crawling out of bed, I debate showering, but I know how nervous the mist makes me. I settle for standing in a cold bath, I realize how strange and ridiculous that is but I choose not to address that.

It's been two weeks since the Fourth of July and our shopping trip. For a while, everything was perfect. Nick and I had become partial to hanging out, just the two of us, him coming over to my guest bedroom and us watching movies or talking about college plans. I got an acceptance letter to the Florida State University and he was supposed to be going to Arizona State. We didn't talk about how far apart we would be, and we didn't mention how little we would actually see each other.

The nightmares had come back, and I don't know why. I haven't mention it to Aunt Val, and I never scream anymore, like the evil monsters haunting me didn't want anyone to find out, like they knew I wouldn't even mention it to Nick.

He knocks on my door as I'm pulling on some shorts, and then he just walks in. He lies down face first into my mattress and I laugh a little, but I sound raspy and I don't want him suspicious. I pull on some Vans and run to the bathroom to down some faucet water.

One of his flannel shirts is hanging on the back of the door. I don't know why Val hasn't noticed, and I pretend, I tell myself I'm going to give it back to him, but I end up slipping it on over my tank top. It smells like cinnamon, cigarettes and Nick.

I poke him in the back when I get back in the room. His black hair is ruffled, the perfect mess, and I want to smooth it, but that would be bad.

"Is that mine?" he asks.

"Um, yeah, if you want me to-," I begin. I don't even know why I put it on in the first place. I just had to feel close to him, I felt unsafe and I needed something steady.

"No, keep it." He says suddenly. I narrow my eyes at me and he shrugs. It doesn't matter.

We end up in his room. I don't know why I dressed, but who cares. We listen to rock music and sing along a little too. The kids don't come back to the theater anymore, and he is contemplating finding a job at the mall all the way in Morgan City. I don't want him to, I want him to just stay with me, but he will need things for college so it makes sense for him to save now, I guess.

Radiohead was playing, and Nick was nodding along. The light was hitting his perfect ivory skin, that covered his strong jaw line, like a model's and he seemed to glow a little. It was early in the morning. He has dark circles under his eyes. I am suddenly thinking of Kate Nash and I know exactly how she feels. I am overwhelmed with a sense of safety and I want nothing more than to wrap myself up in his sunshine and beauty and just live there forever. My eyes are droopy, I am sleepy but I don't want to sleep or take my eyes off of him.

"Lissa asked me on a date." He says quietly. My heart drops. I sit up, nearly falling off of his bed, but not caring. AI turn at look at him, lying on his bed in all his calm, silent glory. I want to be angry, but I can't blame her, and I can't blame him for saying yes. She's beautiful, a real Hollywood beauty, and I know AI cannot compete.

"Really?" I say, trying to feign nonchalance. My mind is crushed, and now I know how Kate felt in We Get On. I never thought it would hurt this much.

Maybe I'm not good enough? Maybe my thighs are too big and maybe he hates the dark marks of old zits on my face. Maybe he hates how nervous I irrationally get. Maybe he hates the fact that I walk with this air of general discomfort. Maybe he hates my two toned hair or my eyes that aren't any real color. Maybe he just likes me as a friend and doesn't want a broken girl to kiss. He doesn't want her to turn to dust in his hands and whisk away, gone with the wind.

"Yes. I said okay, but I don't know where to take her." I am even more discouraged. He wants relationship advice? Why?

"Baton Rouge." I shrug, sitting back down.

"That's a two hour drive."

"She's really pretty Nick."

"Who cares?"

"You do."

"I don't."

"I do?"

"Why?"

"She's perfect. You should go out with her." My voice is shaking like a aleaf and I think he hears it, but he doesn't say anything. I am ashamed of myself, for thinking I had aa chance.

He grabs my hand, squeezes it, and I feel a liquid lightning run through my veins for aa quick moment. I blink, and behind my eyelids I see something that makes me screama.

It is Fang. His eyes are wild and huge, strung out. He has fangs and I ahte them because they are dripping with blood. And somehow I know, that the blood belongs to the Woman. The Woman who died. Who killed herself.

I blink again.

This time I see Lissa, her feline green eyes are searching an area. She picks up a downy off white feather. It is long and has a smattering of blood on it. She puts it to her nose and inhales.

_"We will find her."_ She says.

I blink again.

And now it is the woman. Her face, chopped like a large pepperoni pizza, her eyes sunken in and her hair matted with her own blood and the distinct smell of dog lingers around her. How do I know this? I'll never understand.

_"I am pain."_ She whispers.

I am still screaming.

**So this chapter is shit, and I'll probably replace it with something different soon. So don't get too attached. I just wanted to give you guys an idea of what might be happening soon in this story. There's going to be some legit action soon too, so please stick around. And tell me what you guys think is going to happen. Also to ****emowriter****: I hope a double update makes up for my suckishness and I'm going to use your idea you put in your review. Probably in the next two chapters actually :)**

**But this was lame and I really am sorry. Go read ****Going Under**** also, it's in my favorite stories. It's really good and me and the author are going to be doing a collaboration soon. It's called ****Until We Bleed****, do you guys want a teaser? It's a Percy Jackson fic. So spam us both with reviews and faves and such if you do. PM also, love those... and again, sorry for the not quality-ness of this chapter :3**


	12. Chapter 12

**So here I am again. It's like 11 am and I've got the day off, so what the heck. I might even update Before I Self Destruct or add another one shot. I've been promising people that like crazy so sorry for being a jerk. Um, after Christmas I should be updating more, my dad bought me a tablet. I know this because he mailed it to my mom's house and she isn't home today, so obviously I opened it. I didn't realize it was ****_my_**** Christmas stuff because my little sister's was supposed to come first and I was going to wrap her presents.**

Chapter 10: Scarred

(Fang POV)

Max is in terrible shape.

After her… episode, she's just been acting strange. It's only been 3 days, and I know, she's most likely embarrassed but it's not like she should be. I've known she has PTSD for a while now, her aunt told me, and I was prepared for something out of the ordinary to occur. I don't know if it made her feel better but I told her she handled watching some woman jumping off a cliff right in front of her better than I would've. She's looked at me with wild eyes and ditched.

And I can't take it all. I don't like not knowing. I don't like being away from her for longer than necessary, and I don't want to leave her alone with her thoughts, because I know for fact that when I'm left to my own devices, things crumble and fade and shit gets really fucked.

So because of this extreme anxiety Max has been causing me, I've downgraded to hanging out with Iggy. The guy is my best friend, so maybe I'm not downgrading, but still. It isn't the same as being with Max and I miss her but I don't know what to do about it. I told him all about her break down, how scared and how terrified she had been. How loud she screamed, and the bloodcurdling, heart shattering way her vocal chords seemed to scratch and hitch.

"Dude, give her some time." Iggy says. He's smoking a cigarette. It's a terrible habit, that we both have, and I've been trying to kick it this whole summer. Unsuccessfully.

"You didn't see her Igs. She was… feral. She took one look at me and she was just scared shitless. I've never seen her like that." I blurt. I know this mask of indifference I've been perfecting is slipping. I know he can see that _I'm_ scared. That _I'm _ going fucking insane. Over a girl. He can't hear my scrambled thoughts and he doesn't know what I do, he doesn't know how worried I am about her. Because if max is cracking, as strong as she is, I know that I don't have a chance at survival.

"She's certifiable." He whispers, and stares up at me. We're in my room, he's parked at my spinning desk chair and I'm on my bed and for about 12.5 seconds there's this thick, unbreakable tension between the two of us. It's filled with this… passion. Like he knows that there's something wrong with me, but he doesn't want to believe it and I know there's something wrong with Max, but can't say it. It's electric and it hurts because he's my best friend. He's supposed to keep the whole Fang thing together.

"What?"

"She's fucking sick man. You can't get involved with her. No matter what the freaking doctors have told you. _You're_ normal. You're still the same Fang."

"What the hell are you talking about? You've met her Iggy, and you know for a fact that she isn't insane."

"Dude…" he trails off. His voice is filled with pity and it's disgusting because I don't need it. She isn't insane, and I know this.

But then again, I am on anti-depressants.

"Get the fuck outta my room man." I say quietly. He nods like he understands, but he doesn't because no one ever will again.

My mother would have. She knew what it was like to be in love. And that's what I was. So head over heels in love with this girl I met a month ago that my feet hurt from being in my mouth all the time. I wish that she was still here. I wish to be able to watch her flip her black hair, or watch her smile at me, or tug at my earrings.

And I hear the door slam downstairs, and Iggy is gone. I feel the force of it vibrate through the house, and I feel it sinking in. I can feel myself shutting down, and I can feel all these built up tears trying to break this dam, but instead I end up drowning with my head above water. I can feel all of it in my lungs and I can feel all of it in my head and I know what I'm about to do is filthy and repulsive, but I can't help myself. Everything around me is shaking now, because my eyes are too watery to focus.

Men don't cry.

Too bad I've never really been worthy of that title.

I sit for a moment. A moment or two. Maybe an hour passes, 60 minutes, or maybe a minute, just 60 seconds. I don't know, and it's all killing me because I can't figure shit out. I don't know what I'm looking for. I don't know what I'm supposed to be doing.

So as I stand up, and I hear her screaming, and I hear him laughing, and I feel the walls shaking and I hear Max singing, and I feel her hands on mine, and I watch her bleed, I know there's something wrong with me. I know that I shouldn't even be alive, I don't deserve to be. I know, I know, I know, and I don't want to say it. I don't want to say that Max is insane, I don't want to say that I'm just as bad as him, and I don't want to say that it's my fault that she's gone, even though I know it's all true.

I feel this blade pressed up against my skin, and the cool, deadly calm of it all shocks me into reality as I slice into my skin. I don't register the pain until the first drop of blood hits the ground. It sings this melancholy melody and it's so captivating, I have to do it again. This time deeper and I can feel, I savor, the delicious pinch and savor of metal again skin and blood against tile. It's this dark voice tickling my ears, and in order to silence it, to hear the beautiful music of numbness I slice again. And again.

And again.

Again.

Again.

I could go for hours.

And hours.

Hours on top of hours and hours and hours, if this euphoria continued. Floating in my veins and emptying me of the liquid that is sustaining my life.

I am seeing red, no longer watching her cry. No longer watching the bruises bloom like forget-me-nots on her face but the guilt still burns like my skin and I can't get rid of it. I can't do anything.

I sink to the floor. Blade still in my hand, blood still dripping, and close my eyes. I lock the door subconsciously and dream about nothing but nothing.

I think I wake up hours later. The blood had clot a little, and dried on my arm looking sickly and sweet and I want to tear into it again because as soon as I regain consciousness, I think again. I pour alcohol over the wound, grit my teeth against the searing burn, add some Neosporin. I laugh a little, don't add a bandage, and dig through the cabinets for my pills. I haven't been taking them, telling myself I don't need them, but when you wake up in a small pool of your own blood it's hard to deny that there's something wrong.

The pills slide easily down my throat, and I wish it made me sick to swallow them. I feel like a sellout, like a coward and I wish I felt and while taking them, but they actually did help. They make me drowsy so cleaning the blood is a ridiculously sluggish process, but I get it done and meander my way back into my bedroom without passing out before I get to the bed.

I wake up again, and my phone is ringing and I don't want to answer, but it says Max, so, of course, my hand automatically shoots out towards it through my haze.

"Hello?" I croak into the receiver.

"I'm sorry, w-were you asleep?" she says, and her voice shakes likes something I've never heard.

"Uh yeah, but it's fine. What's up?" There's a pause.

"C-can I come over?" she whispers.

"You don't even have to ask Max. I'll unlock the door, yeah?" I'm trying to be soothing, strong or gentle or something, but I don't think it's working. I imagine I can see her nodding her head, because I think I know her so well.

"Yeah. Thanks." The line dies.

So I scramble through the room, looking for a long sleeved shirt or a hoodie or something and before I can slip the shirt over my wife beater, I hear her barge up the stairs. I am ridiculously scared, really I am, and I try to get back to myself before-

"Hi." Her voice is quiet and shy.

"Hey." She doesn't do quiet and shy and I begin to worry. She looks so cold and defenseless, even though she's wearing cut offs and a tank top.

"I'm sorry." She fidgets with the sleeveless jacket she's wearing. It's Iggy's, I remember it being left in her bedroom, and she wears it better than any other girl ever possibly could. My arm throbs as I stare at her and I realize just how many times I carved into my arms.

"You've got nothing to be sorry for. Wanna get some food?" I ask, grabbing my phone and keys instantly, she still looks hesitant to say anything.

"Nick… I don't know-,"

"I insist." I insist and grab her arm before pulling her away. She smiles tentatively as I lead her to the Mustang. Her hand is warm.

Her hair is cascading down her back in a heap and the thin headband she's wearing has let a few wisps escape and she looks amazing in this sunlight staring up me like she can see through every marred piece of my skin and for a second, I forget that I'm doped up on medication.

**Don't forget to review you guys!**


	13. Chapter 13

**Oh my goodness, you guys actually told me about your freaking Christmas presents! I forget who it is, but I think it's CakeIsAGoodFriend (?) but either way, chocolate is a fan-fucking-tastic present and you have nothing to be ashamed of girlfriend! I hope no one thought I was bragging about my presents.**

**Also, no, you are not supposed to drive while hopped up on medication. **

**Trust me.**

Chapter 11: Sweat

Third Person (Whoa….)

In the stifling heat of Fang's black car, Max is turning red, but she doesn't mind. She doesn't feel smothered, she just feels nervous and jittery. Her whole body is alive and whirring with the anticipation of what she's planning. What she's plotted. She can't believe how much courage it actually took her to get off her butt and meander over to Fang's place, but she'd gotten there, she'd felt incredibly proud of herself.

"Where do you want to go?" Nick asks. His voice sounds like gravel, but it's astonishingly sexy. Max blushes at the thought.

"Umm, anywhere with burgers. And bacon." She smiles at him. Her teeth are slightly yellowed, and there's a chipped one near the back, she has a pimple on her chin, and sweat is beading near her hair line, yet she somehow still manages to look better than any girl ever could.

Better than Lissa ever could.

Fang feels something sitting on his chest, and he closes his eyes for a second, subject to the agony that is loss. He wishes, again, that his mother was around. He want so desperately to tell her about how wonderful Max is, he wants to tell her that he's having chest pains, and he should probably see a doctor. He want to tell her that his medication is making him drowsy, but all he can think about is keeping Max with him.

He wants to kiss Max too.

"Only you Max." he chuckles lightly. He knows that in reality, he was choking on the dusty air of his car, but Max thinks this noise is beautiful. Her face lights up, and her cheeks even dimple slightly, so Fang doesn't mind.

"Yeah. Anyway, I need to ask you some serious questions." She says, not so seriously. Things are almost like they used to be to Max, sitting in his baby, listening to Death Cab, talking about a future neither one of them actually thinks exists.

"Like…?" his voice is quieter than normal. As every boy knows, once a girl gets serious in a conversation, she's either pregnant or wants to talk about (Shudder) _feelings_.

So, of course, Nick's mind is reeling. He's thinking much too fast, but the meds are slowing him down a little. He doesn't want to hurt Max, he really doesn't, but he doesn't want her to get too close to him either. He knows how Max is… too trusting, too impulsive, too… innocent almost. And he thinks, his mind going off on a tangent, that maybe that's why she has PTSD. Maybe her mind was too innocent, pure, untainted for something as disgusting and horrifying as suicide. Something so dirty. And while his mind is off on this tangent, another one appears in front of him, the fork in Green St., and he wonders will Max think he's dirty? Disgusting? He thinks it about himself all the time, there's no telling what she'll say. Max, who's always been able to speak her mind, will know that he's weak, and he can only imagine what she'll speak. This bend is dangerous, and dangerous thoughts lead to a leering mind, a leering mind state, in which he is driving- with Max- and paying attention to the toxic words playing in that metaphorical boom box in his mind, and therefore, not paying attention to the road.

His mind is running like that last sentence. And makes just about the same amount of sense.

"Depression."

The word is 10 letters across, but so-_so_- deep. There's so many ways to describe this. He could say it's like being underground, under tons and tons of cold, soil, cement, and asphalt, and still somehow, painfully breathing. He could say, it's a hole in the ground, or just a hole. He could say it's a dent- because, isn't that was a depression is? – but in his mind. He could say so many things but there's acid in his body, and it's devouring the pills and the pills are devouring his right mind, leaving him with the left- I mean, what's left- and he's always been more so right brained.

"What about it?" he smirks at her cockily, trying to make her angry, or flustered, so that she'll drop the subject. He wants her to ask about Lissa, he wants her to ask about sex, he wants her to ask about drugs, school, his Aunt- fuck- even Iggy, but not that.

Not that disease.

"What's it like?" she says, her voice a quiet, itchy whisper. It grates at his skin grossly.

"I don't know." A new song fades in, and they pull up to Jr.'s, the best (and only) burger joint in a 20 mile radius. He unbuckles himself quickly, too quickly for the noxious chemicals in his bloodstream, and he stumbles and sweats and sighs in the heat. His heart is beating, and it's too loud and he wishes it would just stop all together. He just wishes he wasn't so fucking stupid. He wishes he would've saved her. He wishes Max would see what a prick he is.

He wishes he could save her too.

He's lied to her, and Max knows it. But she's fine. A little nervous maybe, but fine. Her palms are sweating, like the rest of her, and, as she enters the joint, like the Diet Coke a 40-something-year-old lady is drinking with her burger and large fries.

She thought: _"Lardaass_" before immediately feeling like a total piece of shit. A terrible, judgmental person.

They take a seat. Max's thighs stick to the cheap plastic of the chairs, but she doesn't mind because it's cooling her off. Usually Nick would playfully fan her or something, but he's just making it worse. His close proximity, smelling like sweat, Old Spice and… copper isn't helping anything. In her mind, she realizes that he smells fucking terrible but she doesn't care. It's Fang, and that's all that matters.

She wants to know what goes on in his head. She wants to see behind those dark, jaded eyes of his. She wants to know what scares him. She wants to seem in control in front of him. She wants to be the strong one for a few moments instead of being this huge, annoying charity case. She wants to help someone instead of being a fucking burden all the time.

It started for Max right before graduation. She was popular, athletic. A total tomboy, but completely stunning while doing so. Her skin was tanned, her hair was sun streaked and the freckles on her cheekbones made her seem sweet and innocent. She had, and still does, a body like a Coke bottle, that could make a boy trip over air. She made people do double takes on a regular basis in her small hometown. And she loved it. She loved working in her family's diner, behind the counter, giving change, listening to dimes nestle against quarters. She loved the families that came in and smiles warmly at her and whispered, "Is that little Maxie?" to her parents, who smiled proudly and announced what championship she'd just been to. She thrived on it.

Only later, after the Woman, did she realize why.

Max needed a sense of… love. May it be artificial or completely real, she needed to be needed. She needed to take care of other people, because a that's what made her feel taken care of. The hugs she got from crying friends made her feel better about the cancerous aunt in the hospital, the boyfriend, Dylan, who she knew was cheating on her, it made her feel better about the father who was always pushing, whether it be into her life, for her to do better, or her body down the stairs- he was always pushing. But Max was strong, according to the rest.

And when she saw a woman, name unknown, face formerly gorgeous, body formerly to die for, she realized how fragile she really was. And didn't like it.

All in all, the whole experience was traumatizing.

That's why she wanted- _needed- _to dissect Fang.

"Why are you here? Why'd you come from Phoenix?" she asked smartly, ready to take on this challenge. Even though she was sweating.


End file.
